


Broken Puzzle Pieces

by unquietteal



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, M/M, Phan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:22:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3391586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unquietteal/pseuds/unquietteal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hurts. Every single minute of every single day and all the time in between one second and the next. It hurts, and he just wants Phil back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Puzzle Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> this is literally my first ever phanfic and it's quite scattered but i hope you like it ^.^

Phil left on a Wednesday in autumn; unremarkable in every way, just a Wednesday in autumn. But it’s forever ingrained into Dan's memory as the day when everything fell away and he was left to face the harsh reality. His light was gone and he’d never had any of his own so nights were darker and days felt artificial.

And it’s ironic, really, because Dan had always detested clichés and being a repeat of other people, and yet when Phil left he realised that the most overused saying now applied to him: you don’t realise what you had until it’s gone.  

Because when Phil had been his and he had been Phil’s, sure, he knew he was lucky; he knew he didn’t deserve him, knew Phil was far too good and he was far too selfish to warrant such sunshine in his life. But he didn’t really get it and he always took the days he thought were unlimited for granted. Because Dan knew he was a shit person, and he also knew that Phil knew what Dan thought of himself, but it had never before worried him. After all, Phil had been with him through thick and thin and he’d seen Dan’s self-hate at its peak and Dan at his lowest but he’d stayed and that’s all Dan had focused on: Phil staying. And pretty soon he became reliant on that one simple truth, that one fact of life.

So when, after a fight that had lasted hours and had reduced both of them to near-tears several times, Phil ran to his – their – room and came out with a hastily-packed bag full of clothes, Dan didn’t think he’d actually leave. This was just an act, obviously. Phil would threaten to leave and Dan would apologise immediately and beg him to stay and Phil would, just like had happened countless times before. But still, panic took hold of Dan and he instantly fell back into their repetitive routine.

“No… Phil, wait, you can’t – no, please, I’m sorry… I just- I know I always say I’ll change and I never do but – please, this time I will, I promise.” And Dan hated how his voice cracked and wobbled as if he was a scared little boy, and he hated himself even more when he reached out a shaking hand to clasp at Phil’s shirt sleeve as he walked past where Dan stood in the hall.

Phil turned around so sharply that Dan withdrew his hand in shock, because Phil wasn’t the jagged one, the one with sudden movements; that was Dan.

“I’m sorry…” Dan whispered to Phil’s cold face as his vision blurred with unshed tears. He turned around, covering his face with both his hands, trying to shove down the sobs threatening to break free of him.

“For what, Dan?” asked Phil, and his voice was surprisingly gentle. Dan dared to turn around, then; Phil stared back at him, tired and resigned. And suddenly Dan was crushed with the weight of the realisation that he had done this to Phil, he had turned brilliant pools of blue into lacklustre orbs and shimmering black hair into dull lifeless strands.

He was killing Phil, and that tore him up inside.

So without thinking it through properly, without deliberating, he choked out,

“For destroying your light.”

Whatever he thought the reaction from Phil would be, he could never have imagined what that simple phrase actually brought on. Phil’s face hardened completely, his body going tense and rigid and his mouth set into an angry line. Only his eyes, those beautiful aqua eyes, betrayed the sadness he truly felt; and Dan wasn’t even looking, having averted his own to the floor.

“No,” harsh voice and harsh face and Dan finally looked up and stepped back because _this isn’t my Phil_.

“What…?” Dan’s voice trailed off in confusion.

“No,” he repeated. “You don’t get to do this anymore, Dan. I won’t let you blame yourself over and over again. It’s been going on for too long; you place everyone’s problems on your own shoulders and then _I’m_ the one that has to watch you struggle with it. And every day it kills me a little more and _I can’t do this anymore_ ,” he paused, his breathing ragged and his chest heaving and Dan was filled with apprehension because he could see where this was going and it wasn’t going to be an empty threat and he couldn’t deal with it he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t.

“I'm sorry, Dan,” Phil continued, quiet and subdued and those gorgeous eyes of his were two shimmering bowls of sorrow when they met Dan’s dazed copper ones.

“I just – I think it’s better if I leave. For good this time. That way you’ll have one less person to beat yourself up over,” he cast his eyes down to the floor and Dan watched the trail a glimmering tear tracked down his cheek, his own eyes remaining dry despite the feeling that the floor had vanished from beneath him.

“I – I’m sorry. I never wanted this and I still love you, Dan, I do. And it’s not your fault; remember that. I just… I’m so sorry,” and Phil’s voice broke on the last word, hushed sobs drifting through the flat and Dan stood still, his brain barely registering what his eyes were seeing and his ears hearing.

Phil wiped his eyes with a shaking hand, grabbed his bag from the floor, and left, the sound of the door closing echoing loudly in the silent emptiness of the flat.

And just like that, Phil removed himself from Dan’s life and took all the happiness with him.

\---

And now, Dan’s barely holding on.

Phil’s been gone two months and Dan hasn’t left his flat in weeks, he hasn’t called PJ or Louise back despite their countless missed calls and he avoids Phil’s room like the plague. He sleeps on the couch most nights, sometimes the floor if he passed out from exhaustion; he doesn’t get much sleep, these days. Showers are few and far between, meals even more so. He long since broke all the mirrors in the house and painted every reflective surface black or covered it in cloth to avoid seeing his own reflection. Most days he barely leaves his bed, staring at the ceiling in a numb daze as thoughts and emotions wash over him but leave him untouched.

Phil hasn’t called Dan at all, or texted, or emailed, or anything. And Dan has; Dan’s done all those things. He used to call Phil at least twenty times a day, leaving him innumerable voice mails pleading with him, _begging_ him to come back. They all went unanswered and Dan stopped caring pretty soon after.

The thing is, when Dan and Phil first met Phil was already an adult. He had a personality and likes and dislikes and friends and hobbies and ambitions. He already had a life. But Dan was just a kid, barely out of school, and he didn’t have any of that. He was still discovering himself and making his way in life. So when they met, Dan became a puzzle piece to be added to Phil’s ever-growing image, and eventually, as time went on and things changed but they never really did, the end result started to look more and more like Dan. But still, even before Dan came along, Phil had had previous pieces already assembled. But Dan never did; he built everything around Phil, made Phil the centre of his own life and gradually collected his own pieces, but they all looked vaguely like Phil because Phil had shaped Dan and guided him. His likes and dislikes quickly became Dan’s own, his hobbies and traits merging into Dan and shaping him from the bottom up. So at the end of it all, Dan’s image was Phil-shaped in every way, his accent hiding in the cracks and his gestures interwoven between one piece and the next.

Which meant that when it all went to shit, Phil only had to unpluck a few pieces that bore too many reminders of Dan from his mosaic, maybe slightly alter the colour of one or inconspicuously change a few details of another. But, overall, his picture was still good, it still looked like a picture of sorts; sure, maybe there were a few holes where the damage had been irreparable but nothing too major. Phil still had everything that made him Phil.

Dan, on the other hand, didn’t. When Phil left Dan’s whole picture had fallen apart because every single piece had been gained due to Phil’s involvement in Dan’s life. And when that door shut behind Phil Dan’s whole identity had been swept away, leaving only the barest segments and even those had seen better days. Huge chunks were torn out, leaving the whole puzzle a tattered and fragile mess, and Dan can barely recognise himself amongst all the ruin.

He just wants Phil back, wants Phil to return all the pieces back to Dan because Dan can’t stand this, this feeling of emptiness. It feels like he’s lost a part of himself and he’s left floundering, his head barely above the heavy water and he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep this up.

Maybe he’ll drown.

Most days he doesn’t mind.

He just wants Phil back.


End file.
